Peacekeeper's Wrath

"Great!, Fuck off!" The elf shouted, a manic grin splitting his face, his tattered eyes gleaming. He danced in the corner, his movements as fluid and unpredictable as water.

Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to him, their thoughts abruptly halted. Princess Mia, her laughter echoing with a defiant edge, challenged, "Who the hell are you?"

"Oh!, My apologies, dear, I almost forgot that one. Thank you for reminding me!" He stopped his dance, his eyes sweeping over the room, demanding their attention. "I'm Purple, the tenth general of the demon Lord's army. I was patrolling the area when I stumbled upon this little show. It looked rather intriguing, so I decided to join the fun!" He mumbled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Everyone's chin dropped simultaneously as they absorbed the weight of his words. Gripping the fate, Kimberly threw a glimpse, "Why would the demon Lord general patrol this area? Are you trying to break the treaty?" Her eyes, narrowed with suspicion, never left the elf.

"No, no, just visiting my home town, wouldn't you agree, Father?" The elf said softly, glancing at Marquez The Wise. His voice was laced with a chilling familiarity.

"In fact, I also wanted to see my uncle and my cousin!" He added, his gaze shifted to the Princess and the King, a chilling smirk twisting his lips.

"Uncle?, Cousin?, What are you talking about?" Princess Mia stammered, her confusion evident.

"Lavareamor!" Marquez The Wise growled, struggling against the unseen magic that bound him. His anger was palpable, his face contorted in a grimace.

"Don't worry, Dad, just visiting my mother's grave. Not allowed to do that?" The elf's words were a mocking echo, a cruel reminder of their shared past.

He was Lavareamor, the Soul blood puppeteer, the forgotten son of the greatest elf, the bearer of a curse that had branded him as a demon. His sudden appearance was a nightmare, a cruel twist of fate that shattered the carefully laid plans of the great elf.

The Queen, her hands trembling with fury, attempted to summon her magic, but it was as if a heavy hand had crushed her power. The air crackled with Lavareamor's presence, his power a suffocating force that threatened to consume the kingdom.

"Now, let's cut the introductions and get to the real show! What do you guys want to play?" He paused, his gaze sweeping over the terrified crowd. "Since so many of you are eager to leave, I'll let you. Run as far as your legs will carry you."

With a snap of his fingers, a wave of unseen energy surged through the room. Everyone except the known warriors was free to move, their bodies suddenly unburdened. The remaining elves, their faces etched with terror, bolted towards the exit, desperate to escape the encroaching darkness.

As they crossed the invisible boundary between the theater and the outside world, their bodies shattered, their screams silenced. The bloodbath was a grotesque spectacle, painting the area in a macabre crimson.

Lavareamor's grin faltered, replaced by a feigned sorrow. "Oops, my apologies!" he said, his fingers flicking towards the sky. The blood that had been cascading around began to coalesce, forming a massive sphere that blotted out the sun.

The remaining elves, hundreds of thousands strong, stood frozen, their eyes wide with horror. They had witnessed a cruelty beyond their worst nightmares.

Marquez The Wise, his face etched with despair, knew that this appearance had irrevocably changed everything. He was no longer in control, overpowered by the very son he had tried to erase.

"You wanted this from the start, didn't you, Father? You wanted everyone who despised you to be scattered, broken, consumed by their own hatred." Lavareamor's voice was a venomous whisper, his eyes burning with a cold fury.

Princess Mia, clinging to a sliver of hope, tried to break free from the magic that bound her. She laughed, a desperate, hollow sound, but her efforts were in vain.

"Who knew that the two biggest fish were swimming right here, waiting to be caught? The demon Lord of gluttony will be delighted." Lavareamor's words were a chilling promise, his eyes fixated on the two guardians.

"What are you talking about?" Lady Mirae asked, her grin faltering as she sensed the danger.

"Look around!" Lavareamor gestured, his finger pointing towards Marquez The Wise and the Princess. "The Guardian of Grief and the Guardian of Laughter, both captured. And I'm the one who caught them."

He settled Into a chair, a smirk playing on his lips. With a flick of his wrist, the massive blood sphere descended, piercing the chests of the remaining elves.

The air filled with the sound of sobs, a symphony of despair that echoed through the ruined mansion. A young boy, his green hair a stark contrast to the crimson around him, clutched his parents' bodies, his cries a testament to the cruelty he had witnessed.

Lavareamor, his eyes glinting with a cruel amusement, strode towards the boy, his hand reaching out to grab him by the collar. He lifted the boy, his face twisted in a cruel mockery of sympathy. "Look at this poor little child, about to meet his end."

"No, demon! You, Marquez, and the Rwarter band, will be punished by the great hero!" The boy cried out, his voice filled with unwavering faith.

Lavareamor laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "You cling to that fairytale, do you, little one? Let me tell you something, there are no heroes. Just demons, like me."

"No, you're wrong! The tales spoke of them, they are real!" The boy shouted, his eyes blazing with defiance.

Lavareamor's fury boiled over. He stared at the boy, his hand tightening on his collar. The blood around him began to swirl, forming a vortex of crimson. "Blood Curse, Mega Wind!" he roared.

The vortex of blood twisted and spun, becoming a razor-sharp blade that sliced through the air, aimed directly at the boy's neck. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. The elves closed their eyes, unable to bear the sight of the child's imminent demise.

But in a flash of movement, another boy, with the same green hair and piercing eyes, appeared out of nowhere, deflecting the blood curse with a swift, powerful move. The shock that had gripped the room shifted to awe as they witnessed the newcomer.

"Harming a child is a reckless action!" The boy snarled, his voice filled with righteous anger. He unsheathed his sword, its blade gleaming in the dim light.

"Huh!, Who the hell are you?" Lavareamor demanded, his grin faltering for the first time.

"I'm the Peacekeeper, the Princess's guard." The boy's voice was calm, his eyes unwavering.

"Peacekeeper! What a pathetic title!" Lavareamor scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "I didn't sense you at all. How did you manage to infiltrate my domain?"

"Isn't it inappropriate to pry into someone else's secrets? I didn't expect someone like you to show up here. Why are you making such insubstantial movements?" The boy countered, his sword shimmering as he moved to engage Lavareamor.

"Miku! He's Divine rank, you can't defeat him!" Lhara shouted, her voice filled with urgency.

Miku, a divalent smile playing on his lips, launched into a counter-attack. The sudden shift in the battle was exhilarating, a welcome distraction from the relentless pressure. Kimberly's team had managed to turn the tide against Marquez The Wise, almost securing a victory.

Miku, however, had no intention of using his secret abilities. He wouldn't reveal them to so many eyes. He would rely on his physical prowess, honed through rigorous training, to overcome this challenge.

The clash between the two was a whirlwind of power, their attacks shaking the very foundations of the ruined mansion. Lavareamor, chanting a soul curse, aimed for Miku's soul, attempting to break his spirit.

Miku, his movements a blur, countered with a barrage of attacks, his blows echoing through the air. But Lavareamor's power was formidable, deflecting each strike with ease. Miku, his frustration growing, was forced to retreat.

Seizing the opportunity, Lavareamor unleashed a powerful kick, sending Miku flying back. He then unsealed the remaining elves, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

Lhara, her sword gleaming, lunged forward, but Lavareamor was gone, a blur of motion. He reappeared beside Lady Mirae, his hand reaching out to grab her neck. Lady Mirae's escape ticket, a shimmering orb, flew out of her grasp as Lavareamor slammed her to the ground. Miku, however, was quicker. He shielded Lady Mirae, catching her before she hit the ground.

Lavareamor, his laughter echoing with cruel amusement, climbed to the highest point of the ruined mansion. He uttered another soul curse, and the elves' bodies erupted, their internal organs cascading onto the ground. The night was filled with the stench of death and decay.

Miku, his eyes narrowed, followed Lavareamor, his sword slicing through the air. He struck, but the blow was absorbed by the elf's barrier. Another elf shifted into position, taking the blow. Miku, his teeth clenched, pressed forward, searching for Lavareamor.

He saw Kimberly battling the Marquez coalition, her earth barrier deflecting the attacks of the Rwarter band. The clash of metal echoed through the air, a relentless symphony of violence.

Miku continued his search, but he was caught off guard by a blast of elemental magic from Marquez The Wise. He dodged, but before he could recover, Hippocrates, the demoniod elf, struck, his wind cutter slashing across Miku's side.

Miku, his body burning with pain, ignored the attack, his focus fixed on Marquez The Wise. The elder elf, his eyes glowing with a dark light, was absorbing the souls around him, his power growing with each passing moment.

Lady Mirae and Kiyara, their swords flashing, joined the fray, striking the remaining Rwarter members. "Stop him!" Lady Mirae shouted, her voice filled with urgency.

Miku nodded, his gaze locked on Marquez The Wise. He unleashed a series of powerful blows, his fists a blur of motion. Marquez The Wise, his defenses strained, staggered back, his half-torn clothes a testament to Miku's strength.

Miku, his resolve hardening, grabbed the elder elf, his arm wrapped around his neck. He unleashed a blizzard blow, sending Marquez The Wise flying into the wall. He then rushed forward, snatching the movement seal from Lady Mirae and placing it into his own body.

A wave of laughter, chilling and cruel, echoed through the air. Lhara, her eyes widening in alarm, turned to see the Princess, her face pale and drained. She rushed to her side, her hand reaching out to support the Princess. A golden light erupted from the Princess's body, a beacon of hope in the midst of the darkness.

They followed the trail of light, their eyes drawn to the sky. Lavareamor, his bloody feathers shimmering in the moonlight, soared high above them. His hair, a dark halo around his head, seemed to absorb the moon's light, his eyes gleaming with a terrifying intensity.

Marquez The Wise, his body bathed in a dark, swirling aura, kneeled on the ground. His eyes narrowed, his face contorted in pain. He was consumed by the power of grief, his mind succumbing to the darkness.

"What the hell are you doing?" The King roared, his voice filled with rage.

"What else? I'm enjoying the taste of the Angel's power!" Lavareamor cackled, his voice dripping with malice. "Who knew it was so delicious?" He licked his lips, his eyes glittering with an unholy hunger.

Miku, his sword flashing, launched a series of attacks, but they were deflected by an invisible barrier. The force of the impact sent him stumbling back, striking his left leg against a broken pillar. Lady Mirae and Kiyara, their attacks combined, unleashed a crimson blast, but it was absorbed by the golden dark barrier that surrounded Lavareamor. The force of the rebounding energy ripped a gaping hole in the ground.

[You successfully absorbed the power of grief and laughter]

[You gain the title of Guardian of Grief and the Guardian of Laughter]

[Aura was transferred to your body]

[Your attributes were increased]

Lavareamor, his eyes blazing with newfound power, unleashed his aura. He then slammed Marquez The Wise into the corner, sending him hurtling through the air. He then turned his attention to the Princess, his eyes fixated on her with a predatory gleam.

Miku, along with Lhara, rushed to protect the Princess, their swords raised. But Lavareamor was too quick. He snatched the Princess in his grasp and flew to the highest point of the ruined building.

Lavareamor's eyes, gleaming like wine in the moonlight, held a cruel amusement. He placed the Princess on the edge of the building, his hand hovering above her head, ready to push her over.

"Now, let's continue this little play!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the ruined mansion. He glanced down at the remaining elves, their faces filled with despair.

"As you can see, I'm holding my cousin's life, the future of your kingdom, and the gem of the royalties!" Lavareamor declared, his voice dripping with arrogance. He danced on the edge of the building, his movements a macabre ballet.

"I want to test my newfound power. So, Peacekeeper, or whatever you call yourself, make a choice. Who will be the night sacrifice for the demon Lord of gluttony? The Princess or those hundred thousand elves?" His voice was a chilling whisper, laced with a cruel power.

Miku, his heart pounding in his chest, looked around at the faces of the elves, their eyes pleading for salvation. Even the King and Queen, their faces etched with despair, looked to him for a solution.

The sky, a canvas of golden darkness, began to weep. A red liquid, thick and viscous, rained down upon the elves. One elf, caught in the crimson shower, screamed as his body dissolved, his flesh melting away.

"Oops, sorry about that, got a little carried away!" Lavareamor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic delight. "Now, time for your choice!"

"Please, save my daughter!" The King pleaded, his voice filled with desperation.

"Please, save us!" The boy Miku had saved earlier cried out, his voice choked with sobs.

In a blink of an eye, Miku charged towards Lavareamor, his fist a blur of motion. The ground trembled as he leaped, his body fueled by a surge of adrenaline.

"I don't need to choose! I'm the Peacekeeper, after all!" Miku shouted, his voice echoing with a fierce determination.

Lavareamor, his laughter echoing, brushed off the attack, deflecting Miku's fist. But his laughter died in his throat as Miku, his eyes narrowed, appeared behind him, his fist connecting with Lavareamor's jaw.

The Impact was deafening, sending Lavareamor crashing into the ruins. Miku, his movements swift and precise, snatched the Princess from the edge of the building and carried her down, his eyes never leaving Lavareamor.

"Bastard! Bloody rain!" Lavareamor roared, his voice filled with rage. He unleashed a torrent of crimson rain, the droplets falling like a bloody curse.

Miku, his gaze fixed on the sky, gritted his teeth. He lunged forward, his fist aimed at Lavareamor's face, but the attack was blocked.

"Sinners must be punished!" Miku muttered, his voice filled with a righteous anger.

Lavareamor laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. The crimson rain continued to fall, the elves struggling to shield themselves from the deadly droplets. Their eyes, filled with despair, reflected the hopelessness of their situation.

Suddenly, Lavareamor's laughter cut short. He looked down, his eyes widening in disbelief. The crimson droplets, instead of dissolving, were healing the elves, their wounds closing, their skin glowing with a warm light.

Miku, seizing the moment, dashed forward, his movements a blur. He slammed into Lavareamor, his fist connecting with his chest. Lavareamor, reeling from the impact, was caught off guard. Miku, his eyes filled with a cold fury, reversed the effects of Lavareamor's attack, his power surging through the air.

He grabbed the shining sword, buried deep in the ground, and plunged it into Lavareamor's chest. The sword sang a mournful song, the tiny droplets of blood cascading down the blade. A wave of silence, tinged with relief, swept through the room. The elves, their faces filled with joyous disbelief, erupted in cheers.

A man, his face etched with pain and sorrow, looked at Miku, his eyes filled with a deep longing. Blood dripped from his mouth, staining his aged but handsome features. He reached out, his hand trembling, and gently touched Miku's face.

"Are you my son?" Marquez The Wise whispered, his voice raspy and weak.

"No…there are no children who would kill their parents like this…" Miku said, his voice filled with empathy.

"I see…there was no act of love in this… Aren't you really my son?" Marquez The Wise asked, his voice filled with a desperate hope.

"Your son was standing behind you." Miku said, his gaze shifting to the sky.

"Hmm…is that so?...Then I'm so lucky…" Marquez The Wise muttered, his eyes closing, his breath shallow.

"Rest, Father." Miku said, gently pulling the sword from his chest.

Lavareamor, his eyes filled with disbelief and anguish, watched as his father, his body weakened by the soul curse, shielded him from Miku's attack. A wave of emotion, a mixture of anger, fear, and a strange, unfamiliar longing, washed over him.

He turned and walked away, but Lhara, her sword flashing, intercepted him. The sword sliced through his barrier, severing his flesh, but he vanished into thin air, leaving only a wisp of smoke behind.

Miku only gazed at the dying elf and placed him down. His plan to capture the great elf failed, and his plan was changed dramatically, reminding him that he cannot control fate. The soul and memories of Marquez The Wise entered his mind, grasping the true intentions of the great elf. He then began to scan the surroundings as he was absorbing the souls around and refining them to the finest.

Lhara held his hand tightly and struck it up. "Glory for the peace!" She shouted, boosting the morale of the others.

The other elves shouted the name of peace and cheered for the rest of their time. Princess Mia and the royals moved their bodies and hugged him as they recognized his efforts.

Inside Miku's thought was the rambling memories of Marquez The Wise begging for salvation, in the split of a second he saw an image of the girl with a beautiful silver hair who was lifting the lifeless body of Marquez The Wise take a nap on her. The sounds of daring cheers suddenly become quite as he watched the two enjoying the breeze of the cold night.

The image glanced at him and leave a gently grin as it was slowly parish in his sight. He then shifted his gazed in his ground and saw the hands of the souls he absorbed dragging him in disappear.

"Smile, smile!, your the hero today!" Lhara muttered holding my hand tightly.